


The Courtesan

by vienn_peridot



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU: Nobility, Accidental Voyeurism, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Other, Past Character Death, Prostitution, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Voice Kink, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 10:17:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4702364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vienn_peridot/pseuds/vienn_peridot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Rung contracts a courtesan for his Knight-protector and sees far more than he intended to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Courtesan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Squid_in_disguise (hero_of_derp)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hero_of_derp/gifts).



“Drift?”

Drift looked up from where he was sitting on the floor to hone and polish his shortswords to see his ward, Lord Rung, standing in the door of his suite.

He hadn’t heard the small noblemech enter.

The priest-knight had been too caught up in his task and thoughts of his ward to notice the entry chime or the footsteps.

Not good.

Rung didn’t seem to mind, however. He gave Drift a warm smile from behind his protective eyepieces, motioning him to stay seated when Drift would have risen only to kneel again at the smaller mech’s pedes.

“Don’t worry Drift; I won’t be interrupting you for long.” Rung paused briefly and Drift wondered at the strange emotion that flashed across his faceplates. There was nothing in his EMF for the Knight to pick up at this range. “It has come to my notice that the rather busy schedule I –and by extension, you- must maintain has deprived you of the ability to enjoy certain… _forms_ of recreation.” The subglyphs Rung used made it absolutely clear that by ‘recreation’ he meant interfacing. “I am aware that the vows of your order do not forbid you physical pleasure, so long as you do not engender progeny.”

“My Lord, I-” Drift interrupted without thinking, protesting whatever Rung as about to say and his Lord raised a small hand to silence him.

“I have arranged an appointment with someone whom I think might be acceptable to you.” Rung gave him one of those shy, sad smiles that Drift was powerless to resist. “Please humour me in this, Drift. I will not be angry if this doesn’t work out, but all the same I would still like you to meet with this mech. The Oath and Guardianship we swore goes both ways and I have been neglecting my responsibility ensure you are cared for."

When faced with the logic and earnest pleading in his Lord and Ward’s voice and Field, Drift couldn’t do anything but submit to Rung’s wishes. It didn’t matter that Drift was happy to go without the touch of another, that the only mech he wanted was his Ward. Rung knew he had been anything but chaste before swearing the Oath and was obviously upset with himself for Drift’s lack of recreational opportunities.

“As you wish, my Lord.” Drift bowed his helm, gracefully acknowledging his defeat. “I shall meet with this… this mech.”

 

## ~V~V~V~V~V~

 

Three anxious days later Drift was once again in his quarters, trying to meditate and find some calm before his unwanted visitor arrived. By the time a polite chime announced the strange mech’s arrival Drift was still anything but calm. All he’d managed to do was keep himself from hyperventilating and pacing his rooms in stress. The Knight didn’t know _what_ he was expecting when he opened the door, but it certainly wasn’t the elegant white jet that entered with a graceful sway of skirting panels and turned to bow smoothly to Drift as the door slid closed behind him.

“Greetings, Drift.” The jet’s voice was smooth and pleasant to Drift’s keen audio receptors. “My designation is Wing.”

Drift’s mouth went dry as his optics devoured the visual feast that was Wing’s frame. Smooth white plating with red accents, articulated flightpanels folded neatly against his backplates that Drift’s fingers itched to touch and the most gorgeous golden optics he’d ever seen.  There was an odd familiarity to his armour that puzzled the Knight. Bright optics that shone with sincerity has Wing rose from his bow with a smile that stopped the air in Drift’s vents.

“Greetings, Wing.” Drift croaked, feeling heat rush to his finials and somewhere further down his frame.

He tried desperately to convince himself that he _didn’t_ want to take the jet in his arms and find out how that smile tasted, thank you very much! His obviously flustered state made the infernally sexy jet smile more brightly.

“I have been informed that our meeting was arranged without your prior knowledge.” Wing’s words made Drift gape like a fool, the earnest apology in his Field seemed to be completely genuine. “If I may, there are some things I’d like to say before you decide how you would like this appointment to go. Is that alright, Drift?”

Hearing the jet say his designation in that concerned tone was sent a strange little thrill through Drift’s Spark. Somehow he got himself back under control and nodded jerkily. Right now he was blessing his Ward for being so thoughtful. ‘Hoped would be suitable’, indeed! If this ‘Wing’ was any more suitable Drift thought he might just quietly combust on the spot! Wing tilted his helm, yellow optics flashing merrily.

“Uh, sure.” Drift said hastily when he realised Wing had been waiting for him to speak. “Yeah. We can sit over here, if that’s ok?”

He waved his hand at one of the little conversational seating arrangements that predated his moving into the suite after swearing the Oath with Rung. In fact, the only rooms of this suite Drift had done anything to personalise were the berthroom, washrack and one he’d converted into a meditation room. Wing inclined his head and walked with an elegant clinking of skirting panels to seat himself comfortably on one of the squashy backless poufs designed for flightframes. After forcibly reminding himself to move Drift managed to get to one of the slightly less squishy groundframe chairs without tripping over his pedes and sat down facing the courtesan.

“Now, Drift.” Wing began in a warm conversational tone, smile still hovering at the corner of his mouth. “Lord Rung presented his concerns to the Paterfamilias of my house. After some discussion they thought I might be the mech best suited to your particular situation. When they approached me with the offer I found that I agreed with their reasoning.”

Drift couldn’t tear his gaze from the glow of Wing’s optics.

_The truth lies in the optics_

One could learn to control everything except the optics, the window to the Spark. Wings optics were amber-yellow, warm and open, inviting Drift to unburden himself in every way possible.

“Why?” The Knight asked, honestly confused. “I mean, you’re very pretty but I know there’s more to it than that. My Ward, Lord Rung he’s, well, _fussy_ about certain things.”

Wing’s EMF fizzed with amusement and a chiming laugh broke from his vocaliser. Drift shivered as the sound slid deliciously from the tips of his finials to the soles of his pedes. Oh, he could listen to that laugh for _hours_ , just the way he could listen to his Ward speak at length about a subject that interested him.

“You recognised the design of my armour, correct?” Wing asked and Drift nodded. “Like you, I was once a Knight Protector of the Circle.” The jet’s faceplates became impassive and his optics dimmed with old grief. “When Lord Tailgate passed away from Cybercrosis I could not bring myself to swear to a new Ward. Nor did I wish to remain within the Citadel as it served only to remind me of my loss, keeping it fresh in my mind and Spark. Instead I chose to serve others in another way, bringing joy and pleasure to the existences of many instead of ensuring the safety of one.”

“I… I see now.” Drift said softly, reaching across the space between them to take one of Wing’s hands in his. He squeezed the courtesan’s black-plated hand, speaking the ritual words of mourning with more sincerity than he’d ever used before. “Knight Wing, I see your loss and grieve with you.”

The ritual words and the use of his old title seemed to shake the gorgeous jet. His lips trembled and he squeezed Drift’s hands, optics shining with gratitude and something that looked suspiciously like unshed tears.

“My gratitude, Knight Drift.” Without breaking optic contact, Wing raised Drift’s hands to his mouth and brushed a gentle kiss against his knuckles, “In light of this, would you be averse to conducting your own explorations into my suitability?”

The suggestive tone and cheeky subglyphs Wing used for the last word wrung a smothered groan from Drift’s vocaliser. He wondered what it would be like to have the jet blindfold him and simply talk to him until he overloaded and felt heat flush his faceplates and finials when his engine revved loudly. Wing’s smile transfigured his face from simply pretty into something truly exquisite. He slid off the pouf and knelt between Drift’s thighs, placing Drift’s hands on his waist and reaching up to pull Drift into an impossibly sweet kiss. Their Fields tangled together and Drift surrendered willingly to Wing. To his lips and hands and frame and the pleasure he could bring with them.

 

## ~V~V~V~V~V~

 

Rung told himself that he just wanted to make sure his guardian was alright, that he hadn’t overstepped his bounds and upset the Knight by arranging a courtesan for him. Locked in his own quarters with orders that he be left undisturbed the Lord activated the estate security system, bringing up the cameras in Drift’s quarters.

Only the Lord and his head of household security even knew these cameras existed, alongside the ones in his own quarters. Rung trusted in the discretion of his head of security and this was the first timed Rung himself had activated these cameras since Drift had come to live with him.

When the camera feed stabilised and the screen lit up Rung’s optics shot wide and he slapped blindly at the shutoff, missing by a mile and splitting his plating on the edge of the console.

_Oh sweet Primus below._

His beautiful Knight Protector was kissing the gorgeous jet with such passion it made the Lord’s Spark burn with helpless envy. Watching Drift kiss someone else was purest torture. The hint of hungry desperation in the Knight’s movements as he pulled Wing up to sit astride his lap told Rung that he had made the right decision in contracting the courtesan.

 _There’s no need for_ both _of us to be frustrated and miserable, after all_.

The audio pickup fed straight to Rung’s own audial receivers, every rev and gasp coming through as clearly as if he were in the room with them. The sound of armour plating scraping together made him shiver. Wing murmured a question too low for Rung to make out as Drift kissed his way down the jet’s throat cables in a way that made the watching Lord stifle a moan against his bleeding palm. Drift’s answer was also too low to hear but the husky quality of his voice made Rung’s primary interface panels open with a loud _snap_ that startled him back to sense.

_I shouldn’t be watching this. I need to turn it off._

Absently licking the energon from his injured palm Rung fumbled for the shutoff with his other hand, optics still glued to the screen. Wing was licking and kissing his way up one of Drift’s helm finials while the Knight moaned and writhed helplessly beneath him. The sight filled Rung’s entire frame with heat and longing. Dark warriors’ hands trailed up over glossy white armour to tease shyly at the base of folded flightpanels and Wing arched his back with a pleased hum, pressing himself into Drift’s touch while bringing a hand up to caress the opposite finial from the one he’d been kissing.

The new position offered Rung a clear view of both the honest pleasure on the courtesan’s faceplates and the shy joy radiating from Drift. They were beautiful together and the sigh of longing that reached Rung’s audials was his own as he heard the distinctive sound of interfacing panels opening in perfect tandem. A gust of cool air where he shouldn’t be feeling any made shocked Rung. He suddenly realised that his own secondary panels had opened and he was standing in his office, bare and hard and dripping down the inside of his thighs.

Guilt ate at him.

 _I have to stop this_.

Rung wasn’t sure if he meant the courtesan rising slowly to position himself over Drift’s spike or his own injured hand resting on his lower abdominal plating, inches from his throbbing erection. Rung’s Spark twisted as he watched, hypnotised by Wing’s lithe frame as the jet impaled himself on Drift so slowly Rung whimpered in sympathy with his Knight Protector.

Rational thought fled when he saw the expression on Drift’s face. If he couldn’t have what he wanted, at least he could have this. Rung supported himself against the console with the hand that had been hovering over the shutoff switch, the other one dropping the last few inches to grasp his spike. He stroked himself in time with Wing’s slow movements as he rode Drift, watching with lust and envy as the beautiful courtesan systematically reduced Drift to a state of mindless bliss. Rung squeezed the head of his spike almost too hard as he pumped it, desperately wished he was the one bringing Drift so much pleasure.

Not that he ever could.

Rung was small, fragile and uninteresting with an obscure altmode. His status as a Lord couldn’t compete with the strength and sensuality that was the courtesan and ex-Knight Wing. He watched Drift’s hands play along outstretched flightpanels and bit his lip when the jet retaliated by closing his denta around a pointed white audial flare. Drift’s surprised yelp as Wing nipped and licked his way down the sweep of his finial without once pausing the motion of his hips was a sound that Rung knew would haunt his dreams for a long time.

The impossible image of being pressed between the two white-armoured frames brought a whine to Rung’s vocaliser and a sharp pulse of pleasure from his spike. The Lord was so caught up in what was happening on the screen he’d almost forgotten that he was touching himself.

Drift fell into overload with a broken cry, grabbing Wing by the hips and holding the jet in place as he slammed his hips upwards. The courtesan ground himself down onto Drift’s spike, apparently overloading in unison with his client. Rung was transfixed by the expression on his Knight’s faceplates, filling his expression with an almost transcendent ecstasy he’d never seen before. Filled with longing, Rung locked the image of Drift’s faceplates his memory moments before his own release splattered across the security console screen in a shocking gush of silver.

The disgraceful sight jolted Rung back into a sense of where he was.

Burning with shame he switched the console off, unable to watch any more.

Sinking to the floor, Rung buried his face in his hands. His frame trembled as the lassitude of physical release warred with his longing for the Knight and an all-consuming mortification at his own actions.

 _How_ could _I?_

 

## ~V~V~V~V~V~

 

The day after Wing’s visit Drift woke far more refreshed than he could remember feeling in a long time. The courtesan had stayed for hours, sharing pleasure while Drift proved he could give as good as he got. When they were both finally sated Drift had shyly invited Wing for a soak in the hot oil pool his washracks had come with and the jet had accepted, working the kinks and tension from Drift’s frame with skilled fingers before departing with a kiss and an entreaty to _please_ consider seeing him again.

 _At least I won’t have to worry about embarrassing myself when Rung laughs today_.

Lord Rung was much later than usual and Drift was starting to worry when the small mech appeared. Drift noted with concern that his Ward looked tired when he entered the foyer, antennae drooping and faceplates drawn. He greeted Drift with a smile that wasn’t quite as wide as normal and the Knight fell into his accustomed place behind and a little to the left of his Ward as they left the Lord’s estate.

There was a length of mesh bandaging around one of Rung’s hands and Drift could smell recent welding. He frowned.

“It is nothing to be concerned about.” The Lord said when Drift asked about it, his Field unreadable as he changed the subject. “I trust your appointment went well last night?”

Drift couldn’t control the silly smile that spread across his faceplates or the way his finials heated at the reminder of the incredible hours he’d spent with Wing.

“Yes. My deepest thanks for your generosity, my Lord.”

For some reason, he thought Rung’s smile looked a little sad.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of a larger AU created with Squid_in-Disguise


End file.
